A Time-Limited Romance with Movie Queen Ex - Chapter 36.1

In the dimly lit changing room, students from the finance department came and went intermittently, their conversations all revolving around similar topics summer study abroad programs.

They gossiped about who had made plans to travel where with whom, speculating that certain pairs had probably been together for a long time and were only now being exposed.

Finally, when the changing room emptied out temporarily, Rong Qingyao hooked an arm around Luo Mijin’s shoulder to steady herself. Even so, her tone remained sharp.

“Why do you want to live with me? Aren’t you close with that classmate? She’s also doing the summer internship, and you’re in the same class wouldn’t it make more sense for you two to room together?”

“N-no, we’re not,” Luo Mijin’s thoughts were a tangled mess, unable to comprehend why her usually composed and mature senior had suddenly become so temperamental. She fumbled through an explanation, “We’ve only worked together on two group assignments. Once, she sat next to me in class, and we exchanged a few words, all related to coursework.”

“You remember it so clearly, yet you claim you’re not close?” The woman pressed on relentlessly, leaning further into Luo Mijin’s embrace, forcing the latter to shut her eyes just to withstand the fleeting warmth of soft curves pressing against her.

“…”

After a moment’s hesitation, Luo Mijin’s voice grew urgent, her slender brows knitting tightly. “There’s really nothing between us. I only remember because I have a good memory.”

The light in the changing room flickered faintly as Rong Qingyao lowered her lashes, idly twirling a strand of Luo Mijin’s hair between her fingers, as if deep in thought.

Luo Mijin inhaled a faint, damp floral scent, her breathing unconsciously syncing with the rhythm of her racing heart.

“Also, I may like butterflies, but I don’t like specimens.”

Her eyes glistened as she spoke, brimming with earnest warmth, and Rong Qingyao’s heart softened instantly, the sour ache in her chest momentarily receding.

“I see.” She thought of their promise to release the orchid mantis together.

“She only knew I liked butterflies because the person who sent them called me, and she happened to overhear.”

Luo Mijin’s docile obedience stirred a cold, possessive desire within Rong Qingyao. Unable to control herself, she lifted her gaze to study Luo Mijin, her eyes shimmering with an unreadable wetness.

“Why are you explaining so much to me?”

“Because you wanted to hear it,” Luo Mijin answered bluntly, with childlike simplicity.

“Is it really that simple?”

“Mhm.”

The woman’s kiss was softer and lighter than dew on petals, brushing against the tip of Luo Mijin’s ear before teasingly nibbling her earlobe. When Luo Mijin winced, she soothed the sting with the gentle caress of her lips and tongue.

“Senior, do you believe me now?” Luo Mijin forced herself to stay somewhat coherent, murmuring the question in a low voice.

“Mhm, for now. But it depends on your performance.” Watching as Luo Mijin’s every thought and emotion was entirely under her sway, Rong Qingyao felt that possessive desire surge within her, rushing like a torrent and splashing wildly.

“How should I perform?” Luo Mijin pressed urgently, not quite understanding Rong Qingyao’s meaning. “Senior, is it…?”

Rong Qingyao silenced Luo Mijin’s flustered questions with her lips, the undulating curves of her body melting like shifting dunes, dissolving into a pool of springwater ready to be claimed.

Too dangerous. Rong Qingyao managed to call a halt before the last remnants of her rationality turned to ashes. If she hadn’t braked in time, an even more uncontrollable surge of heat might have overwhelmed them both.

“Luo Mijin, that’s enough,” she murmured, her body temperature rising in waves until it burned. It felt as if Luo Mijin’s kisses might ruin her. “Electronic Sheep, stop.”

Luo Mijin didn’t listen if anything, she only held her tighter.

“Luo Mijin, no more…”

“We’ll continue next time.”

Rong Qingyao had to call Luo Mijin’s name several times before it finally took effect.

By now, the light outside the changing room had dimmed considerably from noon. The green ivy climbing the teaching building seemed to have stretched even higher.

Students who had participated in the cultural performance were leaving in twos and threes, their laughter and footsteps fading into the distance.

Emerging from her daze, Luo Mijin realized she had Rong Qingyao pinned in the corner of the fitting room, pressed so close there was almost no space between them.

The woman exuded a disheveled beauty, the flush of desire painting her usually cool and composed elegance with a fragile, alluring sensuality.

Finally, Luo Mijin felt deeply embarrassed. Clearing her throat, she averted her gaze and suggested softly, “Senior, it seems no one’s outside now. Should we go?”

“Alright,” Rong Qingyao tried to move but found herself too weak. Turning her face slightly, she exposed the slender, pale curve of her neck, pressing against Luo Mijin whether to push her away or pull her closer, she couldn’t tell. “Wait… just a little longer.”

“Okay,” Luo Mijin stayed still until she heard a faint whimper escape Rong Qingyao’s lips. “Senior, are you uncomfortable?”

She tilted her head, trying to read Rong Qingyao’s expression, but the woman buried her face in the crook of Luo Mijin’s shoulder, leaving only the heat of her breath to betray her state.

After a moment, Rong Qingyao shook her head, then nodded, unwilling to speak afraid her voice wouldn’t sound like her own if she did.

“Was it… too good?” Luo Mijin asked considerately, unknowingly treading into forbidden territory again.

“No,” Rong Qingyao shook her head firmly, her voice hoarse but resolute, eyes shimmering with unshed moisture.

She absolutely couldn’t admit to enjoying it doing so would only send things careening further off the rails.

Luo Mijin fell silent for a few breaths. Though she didn’t fully understand what was happening, she sensed Rong Qingyao’s reluctance to continue the topic and didn’t press further.

Instead, she steadied Rong Qingyao with a hand and said earnestly, “Then I’ll listen to you, Senior. Let’s go out now. We’ll kiss again next time.”

Rong Qingyao: “…”

Her expression remained blank as she struggled to maintain her composure.

A breeze slipped through the slightly ajar door and windows, carrying away the last of the summer evening’s stifling heat. Pale golden light spilled into the room, and the cicadas’ cries layered one over another.

Then they erupted into a frantic chorus. Outside, the sunlight remained scorching and bright, the shadows of distant buildings slicing across the emerald lawn like sharpened blades.

“It’s almost seven,” Luo Mijin checked the time before glancing back at the woman behind her.

Rong Qingyao often appeared aloof and distant, a quality accentuated by her narrow, upturned eyes, the delicate bridge of her nose, and her light, graceful bone structure.

Her brows, eyes, and lips always carried a moist, hazy emotion. Like now her cold, pale face flushed with a rosy hue, faint blue veins visible beneath thin skin, as if something lay waiting to be plucked. A touch would make her bloom, flowing and entwining all at once.

“Senior, your eyes are so beautiful,” Luo Mijin realized she had been staring at Rong Qingyao for too long under the bright light.

Rong Qingyao didn’t answer, remembering the tiny scar she had once noticed beneath Luo Mijin’s eye.

“Luo Mijin.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

Rong Qingyao reached out and brushed aside the stray hair near Luo Mijin’s eye. “How did you get hurt here?”

Luo Mijin visibly stiffened, her expression darkening slightly. “When I was little, I disobeyed my dad once, and he hit me. My younger sister shielded me, so it wasn’t too bad.”

The woman said nothing more, her soft, fragrant fingertips lightly tracing the faint scar before withdrawing her hand.

“Senior, I have tissues here. You can clean up.”

Luo Mijin selfishly didn’t want anyone else to see Rong Qingyao like this lips damp, eyes glistening, breathtakingly beautiful.

So she rummaged through her bag for wet wipes and an ivory comb, intending to tidy Rong Qingyao up properly.

Her ragged breaths refused to steady, and the damp fabric clinging to her skin was a constant reminder something had truly changed.

That cold, controlling urge still lingered. She felt like she wasn’t quite herself.

She had always dealt with her transgressive desires through suppression, teaching them to lurk in the depths.

But this once-effective method had begun to fail, step by step, after meeting Luo Mijin.

“Senior, here’s a tissue,” Luo Mijin said, pulling a wet wipe from her bag and handing it to Rong Qingyao. A photo slipped out in the process.

It showed a blue-and-gold odd-eyed lion cat with a tuft of yellow fur on its ear, like a golden wheat spike.

“This photo?” Rong Qingyao noticed it too.

“That’s a picture of my cat. When I was little, I even learned to speak from it.”

“Learned to speak from a cat,” Rong Qingyao mused seriously. “Was the tuition fee dried fish?”

Luo Mijin’s smile was radiant. “Mm, my cat was greedy. It demanded three pieces as payment.”

She had known Rong Qingyao was different someone who would listen earnestly instead of brushing her off like others did.

Rong Qingyao didn’t ask why she hadn’t seen this beautiful cat at Luo Mijin’s home. Perhaps she already had a sorrowful guess.

Luo Mijin took Rong Qingyao’s hand and explained in detail, “It got sick when I was fifteen. I buried it on the hill. But it said it would come back for me.”

Truthfully, she was happy to share everything with Rong Qingyao even her illness. But,  the story behind it was too heavy. She didn’t know how to explain whether her parents had abandoned her or if she had indirectly caused their deaths.

It was like an unsolvable double-sided vortex. No matter which side she fell into, she would emerge bruised and battered.

Outside the changing room, the sky was a clear blue, the sun casting a hazy golden glow over the gray, smog-laden city.

After taking a few steps forward, Luo Mijin noticed Rong Qingyao hadn’t followed. Puzzled, she turned back. “Senior, what’s wrong?”

Rong Qingyao leaned against the table, her legs unsteady. Hearing Luo Mijin’s oblivious question, she shot her a sharp glare.

The woman’s expression was both delicate and soft, her glare utterly lacking in intimidation. Realizing they were still far from Rong Qingyao’s dormitory, Luo Mijin’s eyes curved into crescents as she said:

“Senior, let me help you walk and escort you back to your dorm.”

“How are you planning to escort me?” Rong Qingyao asked as she leaned on Luo Mijin’s support, walking along the deserted path with a peaceful softness in her heart.

“With this, it’ll be quick.”

The campus shared bicycles had only been recently introduced. Luo Mijin took out alcohol wipes from her backpack and meticulously cleaned the bicycle before swinging her leg over the seat.

The girl adjusted her baseball cap, her silver hair  lush as summer grass fluttering in the wind like a streak of rich light.

“Senior, do you prefer left or right?” Luo Mijin produced black earphone wires, handing one earbud to Rong Qingyao. “Listening to music while biking is really enjoyable.”

“Left,” Rong Qingyao replied, accepting and fitting the earbud in place.

“Senior, I’ve set the playlist to shuffle is that okay?”

“Okay.”

“Then hold on tight; I’m starting to ride.”

The evening wind was strong, tree shadows weaving overhead like waves of grass across distant fields. The bicycle descended the hill path toward the sunset, cutting through mountain breezes, damp mist, and floral scents as it pressed forward.

Rong Qingyao lightly wrapped her arms around Luo Mijin’s waist, resting against her slender yet secure back. The song in her left ear happened to reach the line: “The taste of autumn saury both you and the cat want to know.”

The air was thick with the fragrance of roses, and butterflies could be seen dancing in the twilight glow.

“Senior, have you decided what gift you want for your birthday next year?” Luo Mijin’s clothes billowed in the wind, her voice carrying a sense of freedom.

“My birthday is still so far away, I haven’t thought about it yet,” Rong Qingyao said, finding the question premature, yet warmth had already begun pooling in her chest.

She had never celebrated her own birthday in her life. It was as if her birth had merely been a tool her mother used to keep her father around.

When the tool failed, the wielder locked it away in a drawer, never speaking of it again like a festering wound left to rot alone in darkness.

Luo Mijin pedaled faster, the wind growing vast and mighty with their speed.

“Then think about it early. Tell me whatever you like.”

“What if I list hundreds of things? Would you really prepare to give me all of them?”

Without hesitation, Luo Mijin replied, “Mhm. I’ve already started saving up.”

Some might think Luo Mijin’s straightforward and earnest nature lacked romance and surprise, but Rong Qingyao understood that what she had always wanted was “certainty,” not some elusive so-called “surprise.”

“Okay, then I’ll think carefully.”

In just over ten minutes, Luo Mijin cycled to the front of Rong Qingyao’s dormitory. It was dinnertime, so the area was quiet.

“I’ll head off then,” Luo Mijin said, gripping the handlebars, her reluctance plain on her face. “After I get home, I’ll probably read some manga and go to bed by eleven.”

“I need to change first, then study at the library. I’ll probably sleep at midnight,” Rong Qingyao answered earnestly before realizing the peculiarity of the exchange.

“Well then, Senior, I’ll text you goodnight.”

“Okay.”

The moment she unlocked her dorm room with her key, Rong Qingyao was ambushed by her two roommates, who excitedly clutched their pillows and loudly asked:

“Qingyao, who brought you back? I saw you from afar sitting on someone’s bike!”

“Are you dating someone? When did it start? Which department are they from? Are they older or younger than you? Are they good-looking? How far have you two gotten? Hurry up and tell us, I’m dying to know!”

“So frustrating! You were talking downstairs for so long, but that sycamore tree blocked our view. Just tell us already, please!”

“Not dating yet,” Rong Qingyao said lightly as she gathered her clothes, preparing to wash up first.

At least nothing had been officially declared yet. In Rong Qingyao’s view, such matters required the perfect timing and a solemn commitment.

“So you’re still in that ambiguous phase? Is it that computer science genius who confessed to you before? Or the heartthrob from the art school? Or maybe that super tall, wealthy guy from another university?”

Seeing Rong Qingyao’s indifferent and aloof demeanor, her two roommates nearly tore their hair out in frustration.

“If you don’t tell us today… we won’t sleep at all tonight.”

“Well then, you can use the time to study,” Rong Qingyao replied succinctly.

“Ugh! How can you be so composed? Most people can’t stop gushing to their friends for days when they start dating.”

“Qingyao, could it be that you don’t actually like them that much? Otherwise, how could you be so calm?” Seeing that gentle tactics weren’t working, her roommates switched strategies, deciding to provoke her instead.

“Yeah, maybe you’re just playing with them, which is why you’re keeping it all hush-hush. Hmph. Careful, or we might expose you as a heartless player.”

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